


In for a Shanix

by gravidure



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Beast Mode Sex, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Knotting, M/M, Mass Shifting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Mech Preg, Size Kink, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravidure/pseuds/gravidure
Summary: Minimus Ambus goes into heat in the middle of battle, while trying not to blow his cover as Ultra Magnus, known non-beastformer... Sixshot helps.
Relationships: Minimus Ambus/Sixshot, Sixshot/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 160





	In for a Shanix

**Author's Note:**

> How could this happen to me...

Magnus blinked, desperately trying to focus himself. He still had a mission to complete, duty to fulfill. But his vision swam as his armor — all three layers — seemed to ignite with a burning heat from deep, deep within him. 

He’d said he was fine to go on this mission. After all, there was no reason he wouldn’t be; no reason on the record, anyway. He would be fine.

_Ultra Magnus_ would have been fine; the _real_ Ultra Magnus, Minimus thought to himself as he fought to see through his own swimming vision that caused all the inputs from his armor to come in hazy and muddled, like his optics themselves were melting. He’d sworn that the limitations of his true nature would never get in the way of his life as Ultra Magnus. But now, as he struggled to get back to his feet in the middle of a battle on a far off planet, that promise seemed in danger of being shattered. 

He dug his laser rifle into the dirt, using it to keep himself steady as he tried to take stock of his current situation. He’d gotten separated from the rest of the Autobot forces, and wasn’t quite sure how to begin finding his way back. When he swept his eyes around, at first all his senses would give him was a blur of colors mashed together. But as he tried to focus, the white and teal swirl before him became less of a feature of the background and more like… 

Sixshot was pointing a gun at him, but squinting at him, browplates chaffing together in either confusion or concern. “You all right?” 

Magnus tried to point his laser rifle at him, but without it aiding his balance as a walking stick, he very noticeably wobbled. “That’s none of your…” Magnus wobbled again, his words lost as he caught himself, lowering his rifle again to brace himself. “... concern,” he finished, weakly. 

Sixshot lowered his gun. “Uh huh.” 

“Don’t…” Magnus tried to growl, but it came out as more of a whimper. “Don’t go easy on me just because—” 

Sixshot cut him off by throwing a punch at him. Magnus tried to dodge, but it only threw him off balance. Luckily, however, Sixshot stopped his fist before there was any danger of it actually hitting Magnus. Instead, to Magnus’s horror, his feeble attempt at a dodge just caused him to tip forward, falling into Sixshot’s arms. 

He made an embarrassed noise that was only muffled into Sixshot’s chest plating, adding more insult to the injury. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Sixshot muttered. 

Magnus tried to swallow down how the rumblings of Sixshot’s mid-baritone voice made him feel a tiny flutter in his spark. 

His chronometer must have been malfunctioning because he couldn’t quite figure out how long he had been dragged along, face sandwiched between the two stabilizer wings on Sixshot’s chest, before he was dropped to the ground. He had hardly gotten over the sudden jolt of his aft hitting the ground when a splash of water crashed over his helm, seeping into his transformation seams. The shock of cold cleared his senses for a second, even as he felt the water begin to sizzle on his hot frame. 

“Where did—” His question was cut off with another splash of water. He blinked, and looked up. His optics seemed to be cooperating better now, at least, and he could see Sixshot looking down at him, same confused look on his face. 

“Is one of your six modes a bucket?” Magnus asked, growling. He could see now that Sixshot had dragged him close to a river bank, with some tree cover around them. Not only this was a convenient place to douse him with water, but the treeline would also hide them from anyone who wasn’t specifically following the river itself. He wasn’t quite sure if that was intended, or merely a happenstance. 

Sixshot rolled his optics. Rather than answer, he squatted, bringing himself down to Magnus’s seated eye level. Magnus jumped slightly when Sixshot’s mask snapped back, and he leaned forward. 

Magnus couldn’t help but explore the new landscape of Sixshot’s face, sharp features turning downward in a scowl as he came closer to Magnus. A scar over his mouth made part of his lip jut up like a metal burr, only accentuating his frown.

“So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to say it for you?” Sixshot asked. Magnus tried not to be distracted watching Sixshot’s lips as they moved slickly around vowels, revealing prominent pointed canines. 

Slowly, the meaning of the words sunk into Magnus’s process. “I don’t know what you’r—” He stopped when he saw Sixshot’s nose crinkle as he sniffed the air. “What are you—”

Sixshot didn’t stop, getting unsettlingly close to his neck. Before Magnus could tell him to back away, he did anyway, his face nearly snarling. “Primus, they must’ve done a number on you,” Sixshot said, his eyes sweeping over Magnus’s frame. Magnus tried not to squirm at the scrutiny. “You don’t even look like one anymore.” 

Magnus frowned at that, unsure how to parse that statement. He looked at Sixshot’s face, trying to see the forest rather than the trees this time, and realized that the scowl looked an uncanny amount like concern. 

“What… what are you talking about?” Magnus asked. 

“You’re in heat,” Sixshot said, the last word leaving his mouth like a blunt object. 

“Well I know _that_,” Magnus said. It didn’t make any sense to hide it anymore, given that it was apparently plainly obvious. “What do you mean, saying I don’t _look_ like… what?” 

“A beastformer,” Sixshot said. “At first I was wondering if you had some kind of, I don’t know, other type of mode determined heat. Because look at all those wheels and whatnot, but… You still smell like a beastformer.”

Magnus looked away, unable to respond to that.

“Autobots make you change your mode or something?” Sixshot asked.

“What?” Magnus bit out. “Of course n—” He met Sixshot’s eyes, skepticism bleeding out of every inch of his face, and it stopped Magnus cold. He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

Sixshot seemed willing to take that for an answer at least, scowl becoming more of a pout as he nodded. “All right. That I’ll accept.”

Magnus sat with that a moment, and Sixshot didn’t seem in a hurry to push. He backed away slightly, falling from his squat to a more comfortable sitting position, his legs splayed out with no regard for decency. Magnus tried to ignore that as well, though the temperature rising from his core made it difficult to overlook. 

“So,” Magnus said, “you’re… you’re also a…”

“Beastformer,” Sixshot finished for him. “Not quite purebred, but enough to get all the perks, if you know what I mean.”

Magnus snorted derisively at the word ‘perks’. He looked over to see Sixshot smirking now.

“Look, I get it if you just wanna call today a loss and go bury your head in the dirt until you’re clear headed enough to go home,” Sixshot said. “Primus knows I’ve done that enough times myself. But…” He trailed off and shrugged expansively.

Magnus stared at him blankly.

“I mean, I’m just saying, I’m _here_,” Sixshot continued. “And I got your scent now, so one way or another, I’m in this, so. Just putting it out there.”

Magnus continued staring at him. “Is that how it works?” he muttered, before thinking better of it.

Sixshot blinked, tilting his head for a long pause before opening his eyes again and setting Magnus with an incredulous stare as he crossed his arms. “I’m sorry, are you asking me how sex works?”

“Not that!” Magnus blurted out, waving a hand. “I mean, I’ve had sex! Just not while…” He trailed off and waved his hand back at his frame, which was already starting to heat up again. “And I meant… you said when you smelled me? That means… you?”

Sixshot continued staring at him.

Magnus sighed. “I haven’t… I’ve never spent much time around other beastformers…”

Sixshot’s stare lasted another beat before he broke and sighed, though his frustration seemed more directed at Magnus’s lack of education than at him personally. “Yes. A beastformer in heat can send any other beastformer that catches their scent into a rut. Which isn’t quite as bad, but I still wouldn’t be caught dead in a debriefing in that state.” He shrugged. “I figured I was doomed the minute I ended up downwind of you, so I thought, in for a shanix, right?”

Magnus looked down, feeling a vague, irrational sense of guilt at that.

“And if you’ve never done the dirty while in heat…” Sixshot whipped out the wicked grin again, and Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off the glint on his fangs. “Then, well, I’m not saying you’re in for a treat, but I mean… if you wanna…”

Magnus scoffed, crossing his arms, though if he was honest he was more frustrated with himself than with Sixshot’s lewd statements.

“You must think me a simpleton, without knowing such obvious things,” Magnus muttered, barely loud enough to hear.

“Nah,” Sixshot said, his grin still wide. “It’s kinda hot, actually.”

Magnus sputtered at that. He sat with the thought for a moment, pulling his knees closer to him. The heat in his frame was steadily rising again, and soon he might have to just dip into the river. Or else…

“Would I…” Magnus trailed off mid-thought. When he looked up, Sixshot was giving him an attentive look, patiently waiting for the rest. “Don’t laugh… but would I need to be in beast mode for it to… help?”

Sixshot tilted his head, but it was more thoughtful than judging. “Only if you’re kinky.”

Magnus felt his face go hot.

Sixshot laughed. “I’m kidding,” he said. “You don’t have to be, but it helps.”

Magnus looked away, rubbing his neck. “I assume I’d have to… hmm…” He couldn’t explain the rest without crossing an irreversible bridge with a sworn enemy. Not even his own Autobot colleagues knew that Ultra Magnus was a fake, with an imposter puppeting him, yet here he was, considering revealing that to an enemy.

Though, the way that Sixshot waiting, calmly and respectfully, for him to continue his thoughts, he hardly felt like an enemy. Magnus couldn’t be sure if the heat was clouding his vision, but something about the patience of his companion’s demeanor made him feel more secure.

“Are you still able to transform?” Sixshot asked when Magnus had been quiet for some time. “Into your beastform?”

Magnus sighed. “Yes. But, it’s…”

“Complicated?” Sixshot guessed, finishing for him.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“I’d bet,” Sixshot said. His smirk was back, but it was less taunting this time. Actually, it might hardly even qualify as a smirk, the more Magnus considered it. Perhaps this was a genuine smile.

Sixshot moved, and for a moment Magnus was worried he might get up and leave. (‘Since when was Sixshot leaving a cause for panic?’ Magnus thought to himself.) He did stand, but made no move to leave. “Look, I dunno if it’ll make you feel any less insecure or anything, but…”

He flipped, and began to transform. The sequence was as elegant as it was complicated, panels turning and twisting with narrow margins but never skipping or scraping. Magnus knew some people found a simple transformation intoxicatingly appealing, but he couldn’t help but see such complex mechanisms moving in perfect tandem without feeling a bit of awe.

When all was said and done, Sixshot sat before him on purple haunches. Magnus ran his eyes over Sixshot from bottom to top, seeing this mode up close for the first time. The purple plating covered his hind legs up to the mid-thigh where silver-white hips poked out, matching his forelegs. His torso was the same teal as it was in his mech mode. His head was also silver, a pointed snout and ears standing tall among the scruff platting around his neck. His wings were multilayered plates, spreading out like avian wings behind him before he folded them back down, close to his back.

“It looks much better up close,” Magnus said, before he could think better of it. In truth, he’d only ever seen Sixshot’s beast mode in grainy intelligence pictures. 

“Thanks,” Sixshot said. “I mean, I know it’s a bit plain, for a wolf mode. Once they started messing around with all those multi-changer experiments, it kinda messed up my original form. But I’ve been trying to get some mods to improve it.” He bit at one of his misplaced feather plates, working it back into place with his fangs. “Not that I was ever a looker for a beastformer. I mean, look at these wings, right?”

“What do you mean? It looks incredible,” Magnus said, and instantly kicked himself, wondering what had become of his verbal filter.

Sixshot just laughed. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m gonna fuck you either way the second you say you’re cool with it. I just wanted to show you that, no matter what kinda weird mode you’ve got going on, I’m in no place to judge.”

“No, really, I…” Magnus shuttered. “Alright… let me just… This might be weird, and you have to promise this doesn’t end up in some Decepticon intelligence report.”

“Magnus, I think we’re way past any of this getting reported to anybody’s superiors.” 

With that, Magnus nodded, and gulped, steeling himself. Sixshot’s eyes went wide as Minimus sent the command for his armor to disconnect. Minimus had never really seen the process from the outside, but he was sure it must have looked strange as all of his transformation seams appeared to split apart all at once. Minimus set about the process of disentangling himself from the Magnus armor, poking his head out to see Sixshot’s reaction.

Sixshot’s head was tilted, one pointed ear sticking straight up to the sky, and his optics had not returned to their normal size by any means. “Okay, that’s not what I was expecting when you said complicated.”

“Hold on,” Minimus said, stepping fully out of the neat pile of the Magnus Armor. “There’s one more.”

“There’s _more_?!”

The Minimus Armor was always much easier for him to navigate getting out of, able to pull pieces off and place them neatly on the ground around him. Soon he was standing in his irreducible mode, looking up at the giant wolf looming above him.

Minimus felt exposed, not only because of Sixshot’s silent gaze, but also just from the sheer experience of being out of his armor. The wind was blowing, and he felt the sensation tenfold as the air rushed around his heated frame, especially when it whistled past his privacy panels.

“So…” Sixshot started, and then seemed to have no idea where to go from there.

With a nod, Minimus transformed. If his hadn’t felt vulnerable before, now he certainly did. His alt mode – rarely used even before he took up the mantle of Ultra Magnus – was hardly the image of the ferocious turbofox that normally came to one’s mind. Instead, he was all smooth curves, lending to a round, compact body, with cartoonishly large eyes. In this mode, he was hardly the size of Sixshot’s paw.

Sixshot was hunching over to get a better look.

“This is why…” Minimus started, then instantly felt embarrassed by the sound of his voice. “Well… you can see why I said it might be… complicated.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m starting to get that,” Sixshot said. He dipped his head, sniffing at Minimus again, but this time it felt like the force of a cyclone.

“Stop that,” Minimus groused.

“Sorry.” Sixshot backed away. “The smell is just. A lot stronger now.”

Minimus did his best to frown, though he knew in this mode it didn’t hold the same gravitas he was accustomed to. “Well, you can see why I thought beast modes may be an issue. I thought it would be easier to show than to explain.”

Sixshot shook his head. “Actually…”

It was Minimus’s turn to tilt his head in confusion.

Sixshot stood up, and backed away slightly. “I can’t let you be the one getting away with all the surprising things, right?” 

“Wait, what?” 

Sixshot lowered his head so it was nearly touching the ground in front of Minimus, framed by his large paws. “You know how Megatron changed modes to turn into a gun? And shrink down small enough for someone else to hold?” 

Minimus tilted his ears back, both confused by the non sequitur and annoyed at the mention of Megatron. “Well, of course, but what does that…” He trailed off as he blinked, wondering if his optics were beginning to malfunction again. It almost seemed as if Sixshot was moving away, or… getting smaller. 

He blinked again, and realized it wasn’t some illusion from his overheated components: Sixshot really was getting smaller and smaller, continuing until the form before Minimus was roughly the same size as him. 

Sixshot let out a yipping laugh, bounding around Minimus in his new, smaller form. He went full circle around, before stopping in front of him again and shaking himself. “Sorry,” he said, the word half-lost to the whirling shake of his head. “Displacing that much mass always feels weird.” 

Minimus leaned forward, examining him closer now that they were the same size. He really was the perfect miniature of his larger self, small enough to be mistaken for a turbofox, albeit one just as strange as Minimus himself. Despite himself, Minimus sniffed at him, and instantly felt a pang of regret for giving into his baser instincts. Something about the scent — he’d hardly stopped to realize there was a scent to begin with — made him feel dizzy… among other things. 

When his vision cleared enough to look straight, Sixshot seemed to have taken notice, a grin showing more of his pointed teeth and his wings canting up excitedly. “So,” he said, settling down and watching Minimus. “I still haven’t gotten a ‘yes’ from you.” 

Minimus lashed his tail from side to side, feeling more restless than before (or perhaps, just more aware of it). “Do you need one?” 

Sixshot huffed at that, his feathers literally ruffling. “I’m a Decepticon, not an asshole.” He sat up straighter at that, and pulled his wings in. “So, what’s it to be… Ultra Magnus?” 

For a moment, Minimus considering correcting him, telling him his real name. But, security concerns aside, there was something about the way that Sixshot said that name — _his_ name — with equal parts respect and impishness, Minimus decided he preferred to hear that name instead. 

“What was it you said before?” Minimus asked, trying to stop his voice from crackling. “In for a shanix?” 

Sixshot stood at that, dipping close to Minimus. Minimus though he might sniff at him, but instead he leaned in, rubbing his head against Minimus’s neck before continuing, rubbing the sides of their bodies together, gently. “You’re sure?” 

Minimus gulped. “I’ve come this far.” 

Sixshot growled, though it didn’t seem to be an angry noise. It was something deep and visceral, that lanced straight through Minimus’s core. He felt his knees go weak and nearly fell, but Sixshot was there, still winding around his body, now on his other side. They were face to face now, and Sixshot shoved his muzzle into the crook of Minimus’s neck. At the hint of fangs grazing at his energon lines, Minimus lost the battle with his desires, falling to the ground under Sixshot. 

He rolled, looking up at the grinning wolf from his back. He thought Sixshot might laugh or make a snide comment, but instead he dipped down, rubbing their muzzles together. “Alright,” he whispered. “Seems you’re ready for some fun.” 

He wasn’t sure what Sixshot meant, but in a snap Sixshot was at his other end. Before Minimus could ask, he felt a tongue lapping at his panel. He yipped, squirming as the tongue found its way into the seams, teasing at the latches keeping it closed. Sixshot leaned over, sliding his forepaws under Minimus’s hindquarters on either side of his tail, leaving his aft and wings stuck in the air where Minimus could see his tail slowly wagging. 

Sixshot made a noise as Minimus gave the command for his panel to open. Thankfully, Sixshot didn’t comment on the torrent of fluid that spilled from his valve, even as Minimus could feel it dripping down his aft. Instead, Sixshot gave a long, wide lick across the slick valve, provoking a whimper from Minimus. Sixshot didn’t let up though, continuing his ministrations with vigor, increasing the length of his licks to swipe lubricant from his valve to his belly, making Minimus squirm. 

Finally, Sixshot’s tongue plunged into the valve, teasing at Minimus’s fluttering calipers. Minimus’s yelping turned into a low keen as Sixshot’s tongue curved, lapping over his interior node, and setting off a new wave of heat that made Minimus feel like gasoline was feeding the flames. 

He let out a noise that wasn’t quite a word, fumbling over it several times with no luck. Sixshot seemed to take no heed of it, his tongue lost in its exploration as his fangs pressed gently into the protoflesh lips around Minimus’s valve. 

“Sixshot,” Minimus finally managed, his voice breathy and wrecked already. That, at least, caused the momentum of Sixshot’s valve eating to slow, and Minimus could see his ears swivel to listen. “I…” Minimus panted, trying to gather the words. “I need… I need…” 

With that, Sixshot stopped, withdrawing his tongue, which jostled another whimper from Minimus. He finished with another long lick over the exterior of the valve before standing. “Tell me what you need.” 

Minimus rolled over, turning his head to look at Sixshot. He realized then, at some point, Sixshot’s panel had opened, his spike pressurizing and dripping with pre-fluids. Minimus looked at it a moment too long for it to go unnoticed, and Sixshot stood a bit taller, tilting his head in a cocky gesture even as lubricants dripped from his muzzle. With that, Minimus turned his head away and raised his aft in front of Sixshot, sweeping his tail off to the side to leave no ambiguity in his request.

Sixshot teased him with a quick nip to his thigh, making Minimus jump, before mounting him. Minimus felt Sixshot’s body press against his back, his armor nearly as hot as his own. Sixshot’s nose pressed into the back of his neck, the long edge of his fangs teasing at the nape. Minimus felt the spike teasing around the lips of his valve as Sixshot lined them up. Minimus felt like he couldn’t take the teasing for one more moment longer when finally Sixshot entered him with a long slide, his spike comfortably pressing past his calipers and setting his nodes aflame with sensation. 

Minimus panted as Sixshot set an even pace. It was careful, not what Minimus would have expected from the ferocious phase sixer. 

Or, perhaps, not what he had hoped… 

Still, he was reduced to little more than soft noises and panting as his body eagerly accepted the attention it had been demanding. He pushed his hips back into Sixshot, who met him eagerly. 

“Sixshot?”

“Mmm?” Sixshot hummed into the back of his neck. 

“I was thinking…”

“A sign I haven’t been doing my job right, but go on.”

Minimus nearly chuckled, but was far too engrossed in the demands of his frame to manage it. “I was thinking about when you mass shifted down to my size…”

Sixshot’s pace slowed. “Uh huh?”

Minimus turned his head, just barely able to catch a glimpse of Sixshot’s eye. “Well… there’s no reason for you to shift _all_ the way down, now is there?” 

Sixshot stopped altogether at that, and then growled, a sound that went straight to Minimus’s loins. For a moment, Minimus was worried he’d said the wrong thing, especially when Sixshot pulled out of him. But the growl soon turned to a rumbling laugh. 

“You really _are_ a kinky fragger, huh Magnus?” 

Minimus had no chance to reply to that as he felt the weight of Sixshot grow, pressing him gently into the ground. By no means was it a crushing weight, certainly nothing a load-bearer couldn’t handle, and the feel of it made Minimus pant slightly. In his periphery, he saw the paws at either side of him enlarging, and sliding further into his view as the attached legs elongated as well. 

Sixshot, still bent over him, was able to bring their heads side by side now with this new size, even as his spike teased at Minimus’s aft. “Big enough for you?” 

Minimus pressed back against him, feeling the weight of it as it teased his lips. “Only one way to find out, I believe.”

Sixshot growled again, nuzzling against him. “I knew I liked you.” 

With that, Sixshot repositioned, lining up with Minimus’s valve. Even just teasing the opening of his valve, Minimus could feel how large it was. Certainly not enough to be out of the realm of possibility… but… 

As he pressed in, Sixshot was the one that yelped, rather than Minimus. “Primus, you’re so tight. Primus… are you okay?” 

Minimus was beyond answering, trying instead to focus on not collapsing entirely. His tongue lolled and paws kneaded into the ground as the spike drove deeper, splitting his valve in two and setting every sensor node alight at one. He felt his calipers flutter, begging the thick member to plunge in deeper. 

Sixshot wheezed. “Alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” 

That settled, Sixshot began to move, provoking a moan from Minimus as his claws dug into the dirt. Now, the pace was the less gentle one that Minimus had imagined; wild and unrestrained, on the edge of pain but never tipping over it. Minimus no longer had the capacity to hold back, even if he had wanted to, pleased whimpers spilling from his mouth. 

“You’re incredible, Magnus,” Sixshot muttered into his ear, words tumbling over themselves in haste. “God, what I wouldn’t give to fuck your greedy little valve over and over again. I bet you’d take a spike even bigger than this, wouldn’t you?” 

Minimus could find the words to respond, moaning into the ground. But his body responded with a thrill of heat to the sound of Sixshot’s voice, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“How long have you been waiting for a proper spiking like this?” Sixshot whispered, so low that it sounded like the purr of an engine. “How long have you been just waiting for someone who could rattle your tanks like this? Fill up your gestation tank until you can hardly move.” 

Minimus moaned, squeezing harder around his spike. 

“Yeah,” Sixshot said, clearly noticing. “I’m going to fill you to the brim with my dirty Decepticon seed, and you’re going to like it, aren’t you? Breed you full of little Decepticon whelps.”

The words began to fade away, just a meaningless soundtrack to the motion that was driving Minimus wild. He wasn’t sure if he was simply beyond the point of being able to find meaning in them or if Sixshot was equally so gone that he was beyond the point of coherent words. 

Minimus gasped when he felt the first splash of transfluid hit his tanks, his body so attuned and ready for it that he shuddered at the sensation. Sixshot howled in his ear, the sensation of Minimus orgasming around him, milking him further, only driving him deeper into his own release. Within him, the spike seemed to enlarge, sparking another burst of sensation from his overworked nodes, and Minimus felt like his sensor systems would short out any moment. 

At some point, Minimus had slid completely down to the ground, the comfortable weight of Sixshot settling down on top of him. He couldn’t quite tell if it he was imagining the feeling of a slight bowing of his abdominal panels, the way they set into the ground making them feel fuller. Though whether that was a result of Sixshot’s spike, or the contributions thereof, was unclear. 

Minimus caught his breath, and for the first time for the entire affair, he felt that his processor was clearing up. He tilted his head to get a better look at Sixshot, whose head was lolling slightly as if spent. Sixshot’s bleary eyes made contact with his though, and he attempted a smirk. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I’d offer to get off of you, but…” He moved just slightly, enough to demonstrate the obvious limitation of his knotted spike still trapped in Minimus’s valve.

Minimus clenched his jaw slightly, reassessing his situation. He was on a battlefield planet, far from home, in his irreducible form’s alt mode, with a tiny version of one of the most powerful Decepticon warriors knotted in his valve. Considered with a less heat-addled processor, it should have made him scream. 

“You alright?” Sixshot asked, apparently noting the pensive look even though he sounded ready to drift off to sleep. 

Minimus sighed, and nuzzled his face. “As well as could be expected under the circumstances.” 

Sixshot huffed. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” 

Minimus nipped at his muzzle playfully. “Tell me something and don’t laugh.” 

Sixshot raised an eyebrow ridge, considering. “Alright?” 

“Do heats normally end after just one… round?” He tried to look innocent, but being unfamiliar with expressions other than ‘authority’ and ‘anger’, he wasn’t quite sure what the procedure was. 

Sixshot, instantly breaking his promise, laughed. “Blasted Primus, you’re going to bleed me dry, aren’t you?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean,” Minimus said, slipping his head underneath Sixshot’s to rest on the ground. 

“Uh huh.” Sixshot rested his head over Minimus’s, with a noise that verged dangerously on affection. 

Minimus decided he didn’t mind that at all.


End file.
